


Monster Trucks, Roadside Weeds, And The Art Of Seducing Duo Maxwell

by Sol1056



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, POV Trowa Barton, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-07
Updated: 2004-07-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 22:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12022059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sol1056/pseuds/Sol1056
Summary: It was a well-known fact—well-known to me, at least, though even Wufei had noticed by then—that Heero Yuy had it bad for Duo Maxwell. The problem was that the aforementioned Duo Maxwell was completely ignorant of the situation. And short of letting Quatre hire that skywriter, it didn't seem like things were going to change any time soon.





	1. Chapter 1

"You're utterly pathetic," I told him, and had to suppress a sigh when Heero only responded by glowering at his tomatoes. "Stop that, Yuy, you're making your salad wilt."

"I am not pathetic, Barton," Heero growled.

It was a well-known fact—well-known to me, at least, though even Wufei had noticed by then—that Heero Yuy had it bad for Duo Maxwell. The problem was that the aforementioned Duo Maxwell was completely ignorant of the situation. And short of letting Quatre hire that skywriter, it didn't seem like things were going to change any time soon.

"Yes, you are," I assured Heero, in that reasonable tone of voice with which he'd never been able to argue.

It was one of my few defenses against his glare. He would narrow those gorgeous eyes until they were thin, cold slits, and I would give him my best impassive look. So far over the past four years, the score was seventeen to four, my favor. Quatre was keeping track for us.

Heero let the fork drop onto the plate. "Maybe, but it's useless. Just drop it." He reached for the mission folder, and flipped it open.

I stretched across the table, caught the edge of the folder, and shut it. Heero flinched when my hand slammed down on his fingers.

"Didn't move fast enough, Yuy," I told him, leaning back. I took another bite of my chicken. "Mellowing out is one thing. But your reaction times are as bad as your seduction attempts. You're going at a snail's pace."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"That's the problem." I arched an eyebrow, and twisted casually in my chair to see Duo enter the Preventers' cafeteria. Looked like his crew of friends was only in partial attendance; there were merely six coworkers with him, that day. "You should be heading over there and snagging Duo away—"

"Duo likes them," Heero said, and flipped the folder open again. "Now, Une says the preliminary reports from our three sources indicate the operatives..."

I let Heero's voice fade into the background; anything he planned, I'd end up redoing anyway. He was a great partner but he tended to change plans halfway through, after going in half-cocked in the first place. Instead, I watched Duo, laughing and joking with his coworkers in the tech group. He certainly seemed happy enough, but perhaps that was the problem for Heero. Duo liked his coworkers, and his easy acceptance of their OZ and Alliance backgrounds made him one of the only of us five that was truly accepted in return. It didn't hurt that Duo was intelligent, handsome, and charming, and seemed to cultivate that in his friends, which only attracted more to his circle.

In contrast, Heero was intelligent, handsome, and had all the charm of a small brick thrown through a living room window. That is to say, what charm he had you'd only notice after being slammed in the head with it. Then again, the dazed reaction of being exposed to Heero's charm might just have been the usual side effects of having your brains soundly rattled.

"Barton," Heero said, in a tone that indicated he'd said it three times and the fourth time would be accompanied by a gun barrel pressed to my forehead. "What about the scanning technology? If we..." Heero frowned. "Barton."

"Hm?"

"This is a working lunch."

"Yuy, I bet you take working showers," I snapped, only half paying attention. I was still watching Duo, laughing with the woman putting out more salad.

"You're staring." Heero smirked, and tapped his finger on the stack of papers in front of him. "Keep it up, Winner might get jealous."

"Only if I refused to share," I parried, and had the pleasure of seeing Heero flush from his collar to the roots of his hair. Man, he could be stuffier than Wufei, sometimes. I resisted the temptation to gloat, and instead sighed, bending my attention to Heero's messy attempts at mission planning.

 

 

 

"Preventers' party, Friday night," I told Heero, when we met for coffee downstairs from the office. I stirred the cream in, and picked up my laptop case. "Why don't you—"

"He has a date," Heero snarled, leading the way to the elevators.

Ah. That would explain the tension in Heero's shoulders. Every time Duo started dating someone new, Heero was especially grouchy for a week or two, then he'd chill out and seem to reconcile. A number of times I'd even been impressed at the effort Heero had exerted to actually be happy for Duo, but it was a feeling tempered by the ache in my heart for one of my few close friends.

It wasn't like Heero and Duo didn't talk; they talked a great deal. We four were the only ones Heero would really talk to, although he'd been warming up to some of the longer-term Preventers on the various teams. It was just that Heero's version of warming-up took roughly the same amount of time it takes an ice age to end. Most people gave up by then, leaving him bewildered and a bit hurt. We four did our best to cull the hasty people from Heero's circle, and encourage the more steadfast officers to befriend him.

The one thing none of us had done was set Heero up with anyone. Relena had tried a few times, to magnificent failure, and the rest of us just weren't that stupid. We knew where Heero's eyes would wander, and there wasn't much point in putting someone else in the way—someone who'd only figure it out probably as quickly as we had - especially since all possible entrants were coworkers. That meant we'd have to keep working with the person after they'd realized we'd pegged them for a convenient replacement.

Okay, so it wasn't me who figured that one out. I'll give Wufei credit, this once. But it was Quatre and his incomparable diplomacy that got Relena to lay off; Heero was either too dense or too sensitive to her feelings to say anything. Quatre insisted it was the former. I said it was the latter. Heero might be thicker than the cement lining the Preventers' high-security basement, but he was remarkably perceptive around those he cared about. He'd lie through his teeth if that's what it took to keep Relena from crying, for instance.

Of course, it didn't help that Heero couldn't lie if his life depended on it.

He could have been a poster child for a collegiate psychology class on body language. Hell, if I had thought I'd live through the suggestion, I would've used him as an example when teaching infiltration classes in Preventers. I'd had my speech planned for years.

"And this is the classic avoidance—notice the fact that he's not making eye contact. Notice also the twitch in his fingers. Okay, Heero, repeat the statement again: 'I am happy being friends.' Ah, class, did you see that? The quick headshake, that's an unconscious denial of the statement, and the slight waver in the voice, with the emphasis—"

The lecture would be ended with my sudden and unforeseen demise—unforeseen only if you didn't know Heero Yuy. He could take a great many things, but there were some things he couldn't handle with any grace. One was being upstaged by someone he didn't respect. Fortunately for our health, he respected the rest of us pilots; we upstaged him on a regular basis, if in different areas for each of us. The second major issue was being ridiculed. Quatre once suggested a 'roast' for Heero's twenty-first unofficial birthday, a suggestion met with five people simultaneously envisioning a blood-bath as Heero took out—in crack-shot, instinctive lethal ability—each and every one of us. Relena shuddered, Duo got very quiet, Quatre paled, and even Wufei seemed to slink down in his chair.

We ended up taking Heero for pizza, and got him extremely drunk.

Quatre and I took him home that night, since he lives a few blocks from us, while Wufei and Duo live on the south side of the city. Wufei had given Duo a ride, and it was then, with Heero stretched out in the backseat with his head out the window, that we discovered just how far gone he really was.

"Wufei is driving Duo home," Heero announced, following by several gagging sounds.

Quatre looked green, and gripped the steering wheel tightly. He wasn't reassured when I found the coupon for the nearest car wash and waved it under his nose. Actually, I got smacked, but Heero didn't notice. He was too busy asserting his friendship, between comments on the quality of Quatre's upholstery.

"They look good together, and Wufei would make Duo happy. That's good. That's good. That's good. Damn it!"

He roused himself long enough to pound the back of my seat, and I was tipsy enough that it made me lurch forward and think I should be rolling down my window, too. Heero could get away with throwing up; I'd be sleeping on the sofa for the next week.

"They do!" Heero roared.

"They're friends," Quatre said, in his best soothing voice.

"We're friends, too," Heero mumbled.

"If he says he loves us, stop the car, 'cause I'm taking a cab," I muttered. Quatre didn't look amused. I took the hint and shut up.

"Duo would be happy, Duo would be happy..." Heero's drunken statements degraded into inaudible commentary, involving Duo, being loved, and something about lawn ornaments that I didn't quite catch and have never worked up the nerve to ask.

It doesn't matter, anyway, since that's also when we found out that Heero retains next to no memory when he's stinking drunk. Not that we encouraged such events; one evening of sitting in traffic while Heero expounded Duo's virtues was quite enough for me, thanks.

"Duo suggested I ask that guy on the second floor," Heero said, punching the elevator button four times. It didn't light up until the fifth punch.

I was startled out of my reverie, and gave him a surprised look. "You mean... " I searched my memory for the name. "Todd? The systems admin for Empl-ID?"

"Yeah." Heero frowned, and shrugged. "Duo says the guy likes me."

An evil thought occurred to me, one that I will calmly and clearly blame upon Quatre's influence. With my years of infiltration, however, Heero was a goner. There was little chance he'd suspect anything.

"Why not ask him, and then ask Duo to double-date to the party?"

Heero halted in mid-sip of his coffee, and gave me a puzzled look.

I smiled, just a little bit, and raised one eyebrow.

"You mean... go with Duo and the other guys?" Heero blinked a few times. "What would that achieve?"

"You'd get to spend time with Duo, get to know this guy outside of work—"

"I have no inclination to get to know anyone outside of work," Heero said, flatly.

"You never know—"

"I do." Heero almost sniffed, and I had to bite back a laugh. God, he'd been working with Wufei for too long. "If I wanted to spend time with Duo—"

"But you'd be in a social situation, and usually when the five of us go out, it's very casual. Didn't you go shopping with Relena and Quatre last week?"

Heero's expression went sour immediately. He nodded, his shoulders slumped.

"Wear what they got you. When else would you get the chance?"

The elevator doors opened, and Heero stepped out ahead of me. He was silent, but I knew enough to let it lie. It would take an hour or two for the idea to percolate through his skull, and by the time it settled down somewhere around his ear canal, he'd be convinced he'd come up with the idea, and that it was one more piece of evidence that he was thoroughly, completely, totally fine with being friends, damn it—and more importantly, that his trip down to see Todd over our lunch break was proof as well.

Heero's satisfied report that Todd had accepted was supposed to reinforce appearances. Curiously, his announcement was made right when Duo stopped by our office.

"That's great, Heero, wanna go with us? Mike and I are going for the midnight showing at the Odeon—I'll tell Mike to get two more tickets." Duo beamed, and he seemed to be the only one of the three of us who missed Heero deflating with every mention of Duo's latest. Duo chattered on, checking his watch a few times—he was on his way to a meeting, and had to make sure he was at least five minutes late. He had a reputation, after all. Duo patted me on the back, and slung his arm around Heero's shoulders in a quick hug. "Mike's driving, so we'll come get you at... six o'clock?"

Heero nodded, and Duo grinned before dashing out again. He probably had at least six or seven more people to gossip with, between our office and the sixteenth floor conference room.

"Don't forget, wear that silk shirt," I told Heero. He glared at me, and I gave him my best reasonable shrug. "Quatre told me it's—"

Heero growled, his hand tensing into a fist. I smiled, grabbed the most recent mission reports, and made a quick exit. Besides, I had to get down the hallway to Strategic Development to tell Quatre and Wufei the latest.

 

 

 

"Didn't last long," Wufei commented, between sips of his drink.

He shrugged, watching Duo converse with the team whose mission we were celebrating. They were a younger crowd, and three of the women were making definite plays for Duo's attention. Mike, meanwhile, seemed to already be on the outs.

"I'm surprised," Quatre said. "He sure seemed to be smooth enough at it."

I raised my eyebrows at Quatre, and skewered another shrimp. "Smooth. Define smooth."

"All the right things, of course," Quatre said, and elbowed me. I put on my best patient face, and Wufei snorted into his drink. He managed to give Quatre an innocently startled expression, but Quatre's eyes narrowed, which meant I'd better pay attention. I'd be quizzed later. "He brought wine or dessert when he'd pick Duo up. Cooked him dinner. Took him to the theater."

"Maxwell, at the theater," Wufei commented. "No wonder the guy's history."

"No, not opera," Quatre said. "Some comedy. Duo said he had a great time."

Wine. Check. I'd done that. Seemed rather silly, since we lived together, but I could pick up a dessert from the bakery on the way home from work the following week. Quatre's blue-green eyes were sharp, and I amended my plans to 'pick up breakfast in the morning.' Cooked dinner—well, that was out. Unless I wanted to kill Quatre and live off his savings, no one would be eating my food.

"Comedy," I said, about to ask in case it'd be on the exam, too.

"I'm leaving," Heero's voice interrupted. I closed my mouth with a snap, and looked over at him. His head was down, and I could see that thick line between his brows that meant he was upset about something and gritting his teeth. It boiled down to 'I am really bothered and hurt, but if I look like I'm glaring, you'll just think I'm concentrating and leave me alone.'

What Heero didn't realize was that he really only looked like he was constipated and about to burst into tears at the same time.

"Did you want," Quatre managed to get out.

Heero hesitated, then spun on his heel and strode from the restaurant.

"A ride home," Quatre finished, to empty air. He blinked, and looked at Wufei.

Wufei sighed. "Is it my turn?"

"I covered last time," I murmured.

"Oh, well," Quatre said. "That didn't go well, at all."

"I'll be back," Wufei replied. He set his drink down and trailed after Heero, while Quatre and I angled to make sure Mike didn't do something suicidal, like leave in the next twenty minutes. It'd take Wufei that long to talk Heero into meeting to spar rather than practicing bone fracture placement on Mike's face.

"I still think that skywriter," Quatre started, but I shook my head. Quatre made a face, and finished off his drink. When he looked up to see Todd heading our way, he picked up Wufei's drink and downed it as well.

"Have you seen Heero?" Todd was good-looking, if a bit on the geeky side for my taste—I like 'em a bit more bloodthirsty, at least in bed—but he was a decent guy. "I just talked to Mike—"

I had expected Quatre to do the honors, but apparently his stunt of drinking fast was solely to produce a massive coughing fit. That left me to perform the lying that Heero couldn't do, and Quatre obviously wouldn't.

"Heero wasn't feeling well," I said, and shrugged. "He's been a bit under the weather recently."

"Oh." Todd frowned. "Well, Duo had to cancel on the movie, so the tickets... " He dug into his pocket, producing four tickets for the midnight showing of some new blockbuster.

"Tickets," Quatre said, and plucked them from Todd's hands. "I've been wanting to see this. How about we grab Wufei and the four of us can go?"

That's when I finished off my drink, and ordered another two for rapid consumption. Quatre doesn't like things going to waste, including people's evenings. I was sure Todd would have a good time, and even Wufei would enjoy himself—once he was done shoving Heero into a cab and promising to meet him later at the gym. But even in the movie's dramatic highpoint, explosions and all, the only thing I could see was the way Heero's mouth had turned down at the edges, quivering with a feeling he couldn't express and couldn't contain.

Maybe the skywriter might not be such a bad idea.

 

 

 

"He seemed like he did everything right," Heero said, thoughtfully.

He was chewing on the end of a pencil—a habit he seemed to have picked up from Quatre. In this case, however, I was not about to replace the pencil with my finger. Heero would have to find his own way to break the habit. I stared at the offending pencil and waited.

"Quatre said all the things Mike did are all the things that are supposed to be done," Heero continued.

We were sitting outside, enjoying the fine weather while eating lunch. Technically, I was eating lunch, and Heero was ignoring his sandwich and eating his pencil instead. The latest reports were in his lap, ostensibly so we could have another working lunch. I stretched out my legs, crossed them at the ankles, and took another bite of sandwich. I worked sixty-hour weeks, not counting missions. Lunch was not for working, but Heero had yet to get that through his head. I figured after all this time of partnering the idea was only around his eyeballs. It probably needed another year to sink down to his ears, where it might take root and show some results.

I sighed, and took the bait. "Like what?"

"He brought gifts," Heero listed. "He complimented Duo, and took him out to nice places. He paid attention to him... " He paused, and I could hear the pencil crunching as Heero's fine white teeth went straight through the wood. Heero spat out the eraser, and turned worried eyes on me. "I pay attention to Duo."

"No argument there," I assured him.

"Maybe Mike paid the wrong kind of attention. Duo needs attention," Heero said. He took another bite out of the pencil.

"Eat your lunch, Yuy," I ordered, and set the second sandwich in his lap. Heero frowned at it, and I took that chance to remove the pencil from his grip, tossing it over my shoulder into the grass. "Unless you're going to finally get up the nerve, perhaps you should just relax and let Duo decide for himself what he wants."

"But... " Heero unwrapped the sandwich, his fingers moving although his mind was clearly a thousand miles away. Or more precisely, two hundred yards and nine floors up, over to the left and down the hallway and around the corner to where a certain tech leader was either on a conference call or answering any of a hundred daily emails.

"Look," I said, and set my sandwich down. "Why don't you ask Duo out? On a date? None of those sparring matches, or playing basketball."

"But I like doing those things," Heero replied, frowning slightly. "And he always says yes to those."

Ah, I thought. That was part of the problem, wasn't it—Duo saw Heero as a good friend, and Heero was too scared to ask for something that would risk rejection. Maybe that was the reason Heero had been stalling. He'd been watching to see what Duo liked, so he could duplicate it, and not make any mistakes. After all, that would be Heero's major issue, number three: fucking up. He had never handled that well, but at least he hadn't demanded anyone kill him in several years. Sometimes I thought I was doomed to be the easy-going guy of the five of us: Duo and his mournful self-isolation, Heero and his intense self-flagellation, Quatre and his caustic regret, Wufei and his passionate self-deprecation.

I had plenty reason to feel guilty, or want to be alone, or to mourn, or to beat myself up. But I'd found I didn't need to. I felt bad just watching the four of them go at it. No need to go overboard and join them, when I got the effects in the end just from being around them. I considered it self-punishment by osmosis.

"Yuy, you say Mike did everything right," I said, pulling my wandering mind away from the issue of whether Heero would ever willingly try something that had a chance of failure. Well, that didn't involve high explosives or risk of certain death, I amended.

"Quatre says the same thing," Heero replied, a bit defensively.

"And right, my lover is just Miss Emily Post when it comes to seducing people," I snapped, getting annoyed. "Did you ever see Quatre doing any of that crap when he and I were dating?"

Heero gave me a disgusted look. "I didn't chaperone your dates," he reminded me, as though this were obvious. "How should I know?"

I considered hitting him on the top of his head. Maybe then the last few reasonable notions I'd worked so hard to implant in his mind would finally get thrown free of where they'd been trapped around his forehead. I also considered how much money Quatre would probably spend on my funeral, and the fact that Cathy would start a blood feud with Heero. Well, start a second one. She'd been waiting for an excuse for several years. I couldn't see any of it ending well.

I kept my hands to myself, but I'm afraid I squeezed the last bit of my sandwich rather harshly.

"Quatre didn't bring me wine, or roses, or take me to the theater," I said, very slowly. I kept my tone low, like talking to one of the big cats, or a small child. Then again, this was Heero. Calling him an intelligent but naive and too-lethal wild cat might not be too far off the mark. "All I'm saying is that perhaps the reason Duo doesn't go out on more than three or four dates with people is because all those right things they're doing are wrong for Duo."

Heero blinked.

I gripped my sandwich until mustard oozed out onto my lap, and didn't breathe. I could see the damn idea working its way through his gray matter. It was an amazing process.

Heero blinked again, and stood up. The sandwich on his lap hit the ground with a soft plop. Reacting immediately, I yanked him back down again.

"Snap out of work mode, Yuy," I barked. "If you go in there treating Duo like a mission, you'll end up blowing something up and being lucky to get out with your spandex intact."

"I wear a uniform." Heero gave me a puzzled look.

"Figure of speech," I said, rolling my eyes. "Just think it through—"

"No, Barton," Heero told me, standing up again. "That's what you do. I act." And with that, he stormed off.

I twisted on the park bench to watch him go, somewhere between amazed and amused. Then I dug into my jacket, pulled out my cell phone, and hit auto-dial.

"Quatre," I said, and grinned when Quatre's greeting cut off to complete silence. He knew that tone: either I was calling because my partner was dead, I was, or we both were - or I needed a lot of ammunition to keep such from happening. I heard him take a breath, and figured I had two seconds to explain. "No emergency. Just that...I think we've had a breakthrough on the Yuy-Maxwell front."

"Hold on, I'm getting Wufei on speaker phone," Quatre replied.

"All right, Barton," Wufei said, coming on the line. "Spill!"


	2. Chapter 2

Heero was gone for several hours without explanation, and I found myself lying a number of times to cover his absence. He was normally quite punctual when it came to meetings, falling somewhere between Wufei's and Quatre's fifteen-minute pre-meeting arrival and Duo's mid-meeting arrival. After the second team meeting, I got back to the office to find Heero pacing.

"I sold my car," he announced.

"I need to sit down," I said, and landed in my chair by sheer instinctive grace. That little sports car was Heero's wet dream, and he'd had it for two years. He bought baby diapers to polish the damn thing, but didn't pop the hood; there was no need. It was under the best warranty money—or threats of imminent death—could provide. I took another deep breath. "So... you'll need a ride home?"

"Yes." Heero frowned, and his fingers twiddled against the pocket of his uniform khakis. "Does your car have a tow hook?"

"I need to sit down," I repeated.

"You are sitting down," he pointed out.

"Right," I said, looking around. I took another deep breath. "What in hell did you do, Yuy?"

"I bought a truck." He gave me a worried look, his eyebrows crinkling adorably.

"A truck. Dare I ask. A monster truck, perhaps?"

"Monster," Heero said, brows coming down in a baffled scowl. "It's truck-sized."

"Right, right," I said, waving a hand. I resisted the temptation to bash my head against the desk. When Heero came to his senses, he was going to kill me for ever giving him any idea that would lead to losing that car. I made a mental note to make sure all my paperwork was in order. Maybe I'd buy dessert on the way home; at least then I'd get laid in my last night alive. "So... this truck-sized truck. What're the stats?"

"Six on the floor, synchro-mesh transmission," Heero recited. He didn't quite look me in the eyes, and that was enough for me to pay close attention. "Three-hundred-sixty horsepower, four-hundred-forty pounds of torque. Zero to sixty in six-point-two," he finished, and gave me an expectant look.

"Just out of curiosity," I said, as calmly as I could manage, "can it currently do zero to sixty in six-point-two?"

"Not exactly." Heero's lips twisted, and he fidgeted a bit.

"Can it do it at all?"

"Maybe," he hedged. "Eventually."

I let out the breath, and immediately took another one, exhaling through my nose. "Okay. I'll give Sam a call. I think his truck can tow, but I'm pretty sure Quatre's hatchback is not going to be—"

"What's this?" Duo popped his head in the office, and I was startled to see Heero lunge forward, a determined look on his face. Duo looked just as surprised, and he backpedaled out the door quickly, Heero right on his tail. "Hey, hey, Yuy, that three-hour conference call wasn't my idea, just my team lead's, and she—ow!"

I stood up, and leaned over until I could see out the office door and down the corridor. Heero had his hand securely on Duo's braid, muttering something in Duo's ear; both of them were moving rapidly towards the receptionist's area and the elevators. After ten feet, Duo's arm came up over Heero's shoulder, and Heero dropped the braid, relaxing visibly.

"Maybe you do have a clue," I whispered to Heero's departing figure, and scrambled for the phone, dialing quickly. Wufei picked up halfway through the first ring. "Put me on speaker phone," I announced. "Latest developments, just in."

 

 

 

Heero looked pleased the next morning, although he still frightened the receptionist at the front desk. She seemed levelheaded the rest of the time, and I was starting to feel like I was watching a snake charmer at work. She'd shrink away, Heero would give her a satisfied glare, and everyone was happy.

"Well?" I punched the button for our floor five times without stopping, and it lit up. We had to hold the door open for two more people, though, and Heero set his jaw. I sighed, watching the numbers click by, and resigned myself to waiting until we'd gotten to our office.

"Meeting at ten with Une," Heero reminded me, flipping his screen on. "This week is team reviews... " He left the sentence hanging.

"Right, I'm on it," I said. God forbid we have Heero doing reviews. Anyone scoring less than nine out of ten would be shot on sight rather than reprimanded, and I had come to rely on at least a few of them. "Are you done preparing the documentation on the Kline case?"

"He stayed until nine o'clock last night," Heero said.

"And... " I took a second to backtrack, and failed. My brain wasn't operating yet. I claim as my defense that I was only on my third cup of coffee. "Who is he, and did he write the documentation for you?"

Heero snorted. "Duo," he said, and gave me an annoyed look.

"So... no on the documentation," I clarified.

"Barton."

"I guess not." I rubbed my forehead, noticed the coffee in my other hand, and downed it quickly. Obviously I needed a jump-start. "All right. Back up. He stayed until nine o'clock. This is different how?"

"It was a date," Heero told me. He typed on his keyboard for several minutes, and I swear I think I heard him humming.

"Yuy," I said, after a long pause. "Did you tell him it was a date?"

"What?"

"Just asking," I told him, and sighed. "Because if you didn't, he might've thought it was just a variation on playing basketball or going to a hockey game. I'm guessing you got him to help you work on the truck, right?"

Heero nodded.

"And... " I slowed my words down as best I could, considering the caffeine was doing the jitterbug on my nerve endings. "Did you specify it was a date?"

The office was silent for several minutes.

"Maybe imply it, perhaps?" I prompted.

Heero's lips twisted, and his shoulders slumped a little. He frowned at his monitor, and slowly dragged his gaze to meet mine. He looked worried, and hurt, and I felt like an utter cad for crushing him so thoroughly.

"But he said he had a lot of fun," Heero whispered.

"You two always have fun together," I pointed out. "It's just that if you don't tell him it's a date, he won't know. And then he might accept a date from someone else—" Heero's eyes flashed in panic, and I held up a hand. "—And he wouldn't realize he's two-timing, because you never outlined the parameters of the interaction." There. I hoped that was in language Heero could parse.

Heero pondered that for several long minutes, and didn't even continuing sorting his email, so I knew he was giving it some serious thought. Normally he could analyze bullet trajectories in crime scenes while answering email and routing server extensions without missing a beat. But it wasn't a surprise; the emotional was only familiar to Heero if it involved massive explosions, complete panic attacks, and a heavy dose of maniacal laughter while the buildings burned around him. Most people found it creepy, but after enough years, I suppose I saw it as part of that brain-smattering charm.

"I could make a suggestion," I said, after enough time had passed that he'd either ground to a halt or had had a thought so marvelously enlightening that all higher functions had spontaneously ceased. It'd be hard to tell the difference if I didn't know him well enough to catch the thin line between his brows.

He nodded curtly, just once, to indicate he was listening.

"First, did you finish all the work on the truck yesterday?"

Heero gave me a look like I was terminally stupid.

"Good," I said. "Ask him to come back to do more work, but this time, make sure you use the phrase, 'it's a date.' Got that?"

"It's a date," Heero repeated.

I groaned. I've seen porn movies where the actors had better inflection. "Be casual, Yuy. Just... toss it out there, off-handedly."

Heero frowned, and said the words under his breath a second time, then a third.

"Or... just practice it," I said, and picked up the stack of employee review forms. Inspiration hit me suddenly. "Actually, take that folder over there—the one with the reports from the last mission, and deliver it to Winner and Chang."

"But," Heero started to say.

I cut him off. "Take it down there, and practice on them."

"Practice," Heero parroted, dubiously.

"Practice being nonchalant." I waited until he'd finally nodded, leaving with the folder in hand, the phrase whispered again. I sighed once I was alone in the office, and flipped open the employee reviews. "You'll never get it, Yuy, but at least it'll amuse Quatre and Wufei for an hour or two."

 

 

 

At two o'clock, my cell phone kicked into a rousing chorus of Orpheus in the Underworld, which was a clear sign Duo had snagged it from my pocket at some point and messed with the programming. This wouldn't be as much of a problem if that song weren't universally known as the Can-can song, and it's damn hard to look professional in a managerial meeting while scrambling for the phone as the phone sings out at top volume in that incessant cheerfulness.

I muttered an excuse and ducked into the hallway, checking the caller ID. It was Heero. I found an empty office and answered the phone with a sigh of relief. At least the stupid song wasn't playing anymore.

"Barton," I said, knowing full well that Heero was only two floors below me. "What the hell—"

"I said it," Heero announced. "Now what?"

"Now... " I had to take a deep breath, from almost choking on my own tongue. "You mean, you said, it's a date? And what did he say?"

Heero was quiet for a bit, and when he spoke, his voice was very low, and uncertain. "He didn't say anything for several seconds, then he went back to acting normal."

"Ah." I exhaled noisily through my nose, considering that carefully.

That could be good, or bad. When Duo was quiet, it was hard to tell what it meant unless you were right there to see the minute signs. Usually Heero could pick those up better than the rest of us, but I doubt he'd been looking at Duo when he said the dreaded phrase.

"Ah?" Heero was getting testy.

"Just thinking." About dates, but more about the fact that I needed to get my ass back into that meeting. Then again, this might be Heero's big chance, and meetings happened every day... several times, in fact. With that in mind, it was an easy decision. "Now you just need to prepare for the date."

"Like a—"

"No, no, not a mission," I said quickly. Please, no, I thought desperately. Heero on mission-mode meant guns blazing, random alterations in mode of attack, and it'd all leave Duo completely bewildered, not comforted and enticed. "More like... " I cast about for something comparable that Heero could grasp. "It's a lot like fixing the engine. You didn't start that without knowing what parts you'd need, right?"

Heero didn't say anything.

"Okay, bad analogy." I rubbed my forehead, and wondered what Quatre would say, and just as quickly nixed that. Quatre would give Heero a list, and Heero would dutifully fulfill every requirement... or maybe that's not such a bad idea, after all, I amended. "First, make sure you've showered before he shows up."

"But we'll just be getting dirty working on the engine," Heero protested, that suspicious tone entering his voice again.

"Not the point. Just do it," I ordered. "Next, have dinner planned. Cook it, or order out. But food is mandatory."

"Roger."

I decided to quit while I was ahead—or, at least, while Heero was ahead. "That's it, Heero. Don't worry about anything else for the time being. Get through this, and then deal with the next stage."

"Next stage," Heero echoed.

Yeah, the stage where you clean up together, I thought, but decided against mentioning it. Knowing Heero, he would suggest it as an efficient means of post-work cleaning. I smiled to myself, having almost forgotten the peculiar dynamic between Heero and Duo. This nervousness on Heero's part really wasn't normal, and it was only the rest of us who saw it. After all, Duo was oblivious, but he would notice a lack of jibes.

"Now that I think of it... " I could practically feel Heero snapping to attention on the other end of the line. "You could always suggest a restaurant after you're done working, but do it while you still have energy."

"We'll be filthy."

"Exactly. Suggest showering together to save water," I said.

I had no idea you could actually hear someone blush over the phone.

 

 

 

The phone rang at eleven o'clock, and I rolled across the bed to slap the vidphone. Quatre came out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, and raised his eyebrows at me.

"Trowa," Heero said, his expression determined. There was a tightness around his eyes, and I sat up, swinging my feet over the side of the bed. Heero frowned, looking away, then squared his shoulders. "I completed my date."

"Actually you've just started," I told him. "How did this one go?"

"I'm not sure," he answered, almost pensive. "Duo showed up after work. He liked my shirt. We worked on the transmission, and argued several times." Heero frowned, dropping his eyes. I couldn't see his hand. I'd bet they were clenched into fists, but whether at the memory or at whether he'd screwed up, it was hard to tell. "We ordered out for dinner. He left three minutes ago."

Quatre disappeared into the bathroom, and reappeared, wiping his face with the towel. Then he waved at me from behind the vidphone and left the bedroom. I didn't have time to call him back, though, too focused on trying to decrypt Heero's mission report. Or date report. Either way, it was classic reportage.

"Eleven o'clock is quite late on a school night," I observed.

"We're not in school."

"Turn of phrase, Yuy." I pursed my lips. "Well, when he left, did he seem happy? Did he seem to enjoy the evening?"

"He was acting strange," Heero allowed, and his brow wrinkled. "He just stood by the door, and kept talking about stupid things. Like the weather."

"The weather," I said, then nearly groaned. "Damn it, Yuy, I bet he was waiting for you to kiss him!"

Heero's eyes went wide. I'm not sure, but I think he even squeaked. Quatre returned on the tail end of my statement, promptly shoved a fist in his mouth, and headed back into the hallway. I glowered momentarily, hoping Heero couldn't hear the muffled laughter floating from the study.

"Kiss him," Heero said, as if this were an entirely new type of firearm and if he could just dismantle it often enough, it'd make sense. "But... "

"That's what you do on dates," I replied.

"You didn't put it on the list!"

"What?" I boggled. I know I did. "I didn't think you'd need to be told that!"

Heero glared, as if the date was now revealed to be an utter failure, and it was all my fault for inadequate preparation. Boy, it was bringing flashbacks to the last mission when I'd only packed seventeen magazines and we'd run out of ammunition. Why was I always the one to get blamed? I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair.

"Okay, Yuy, the real question is whether you made plans for another date."

"We did." Heero paused, frowned, and his tone grew worried. "I didn't call it a date, though. I didn't say it, specifically." I could see the gears churning as the concept wriggled through his gray matter and took hold. I was certain he was probably making a mental note to call Duo first thing in the morning to clarify.

"No need, I'd think," I said. "Just... how did you make plans? Was it casual, or did you set a time?"

"Duo suggested it," Heero said, his brow furrowed. "He said we could finish in another day or two of work. And he's bringing dinner."

I gave a great heaving sigh of relief. "Then it's still a date."

"But I didn't—"

"It's like a standing thing, Yuy. It's a date from now on, each time you get together, unless otherwise stated," I explained, and just as quickly realized my mistake.

Great. Now Heero was going to be under the impression that running into Duo in the hallway at work, or in a meeting, or at the soda machine, meant the date was still on, which would only confuse Duo more. At work, we were professionals first and friends second; outside work, we were friends first and young men second. Heero could handle the compartmentalization the best of all of us, I'd always felt, but mixing the areas could lead to disaster. I hastily tried to correct his impression of my words.

"I mean, when you're not at work. When you're at work—"

"I am not going to be on a date with someone while at work," Heero informed me. His eyes were narrowed, as though I'd implied something unbelievably moronic.

"Right, right," I said, and yawned. "Get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning. We'll pick you up at seven?"

"I'll be out front," Heero said, and signed off.

I shook my head and fell back on the bed, groaning. Maybe Une would let me take a vacation. Then again, if this didn't work out and Heero was trampled by an oblivious Duo, I probably wouldn't need to ask for a vacation. Being six feet under would make the whole thing a moot point.

"Hey," Quatre said, coming back into the bedroom. He crawled across the bed, and laid down on top of me. I groaned, and he rolled off me with a laugh. "Wufei says we'd be better off just tying Heero to his office chair and putting a bow on his head. Duo's unbirthday is coming up, after all."

"It's a thought," I said, and wondered if Quatre still had the number for that skywriter.

 

 

 

Wednesday I spent nine hours running the Preventers evaluation exams. The year before I'd supervised the obstacle course, but Une assigned me to the written exam. It was absolute boredom, even with Duo stopping by twice each day to bring me snacks and gossip. By the second visit I was starting to feel a little odd, and had to struggle to keep from rubbing my nose in case crumbs from the cookie had ended up on my face instead of my tongue. Duo was giving me odd little looks at times, then he'd shrug, grin, and go back to telling me about the upcoming hiring round, or the team conversions after the review process was final.

I called Quatre during one of the breaks.

"I think he's catching on," I whispered. I kept my back to the auditorium wall, in case Duo sprang another visit on me. Or worse, Heero.

"That's good, right?" I knew Quatre was shaking his head, and probably writing out notes to Wufei of what I was saying. "If Duo's figuring it out... "

"Either he's suspicious about Heero's behavior—" Another thought occurred to me. "Damn it, Quatre, have you been smiling at Duo?"

"Who, me?"

"Oh, hell, it's not Yuy, it's Duo's birthday!" I growled, and several unsuspecting Preventer cadets nearby looked startled, then frightened. "You've been giving him that 'I know something you don't' look, haven't you. He thinks we're doing a surprise party for him. That's gotta be it."

"Surprise party?" Quatre made a humming sound, then laughed. "Wufei says that's a great idea. We'll get right on it."

"Wait, Quat—" I didn't even have a chance to finish. He'd already hung up on me. I glared at the phone, and called the exam room to order. Break was over five minutes early, and I was jumpy the rest of the day.

 

 

 

I was ready when the phone rang that evening, although this time it was closer to midnight. Quatre looked up from his book and grinned, and I rolled over on my side and slapped the answer button. Heero's face flashed on the screen, deep scowl lines in his face.

"This isn't working," he announced.

"What happened?" I sighed and bunched the pillow under my head.

"I suggested we shower together... " I was treated to the sight of Heero blushing furiously, though he seemed unaware of it.

"And?"

"Duo had heat stroke."

That statement took a second to sink in, before I managed to remind Heero, "it's April."

Behind me, Quatre made a choking sound and I kicked backwards with one foot. He yelped quietly, and slid down on the bed to hide behind me, his face pressed against my shoulder blades. Oh, yeah, I thought, you're a big fuckin' help. Abandoning me in my hour of need.

"How—why—heat stroke?"

"He demonstrated all the classical signs," Heero told me, and sighed. "He turned completely red, and swayed on his feet. When I asked him his status, he was glassy-eyed and somewhat incoherent."

I didn't want to picture it. I didn't even want to hear it. But knowing there was someone behind me who'd throw me out of the bedroom if I didn't find out every sordid detail, I was compelled to ask. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

"So I escorted him to the shower, turned the water on cold, and made him stay in there until he was lucid again." Heero's scowl deepened. "Duo is still very unappreciative when he's not feeling well."

I had to elbow Quatre to get him to stop giggling against me.

"I'm not sure he was suffering heat stroke," I told Heero, picking my words carefully. "I suspect—"

"I know the signs of heat stroke," Heero retorted. "I'm trained in all the emergency qualifications."

"Of course." I aimed another kick at Quatre. Heero's frown grew deeper, and his eyes flickered past me. I kicked once more, and Quatre finally took the hint. It meant my shirt was now getting soppy from being shoved into his mouth, but I wasn't about to distract him with other things while trying to focus on Heero. "So. Uh. Once you... assisted Duo in recovering... " I held my breath, half-afraid Duo had stormed out, disgusted.

"He wanted me to join him," Heero said, shaking his head. "I didn't have heat stroke. I see no need to give myself a chill in a cold shower, but I did provide extra towels. He had to have one whole towel just for his hair."

"Always a gentleman," I drawled under my breath. The speakers didn't pick it up, and Heero looked confused. "But he didn't yell at you and leave?"

"No, once I explained, he seemed to find it all quite funny," Heero said. He raised his eyebrows, his lids closing halfway, probably replaying it in his head. "But he didn't stand by the door for a long time tonight, either." Heero's eyes opened, that clear blue piercing in its intensity. "I was about to kiss him, and he promised he'd see me after work tomorrow and then he was gone."

"Oh." I sighed. I wasn't sure what to say, when I felt Quatre shift behind me. He came up on his elbows, and leaned over me to wave at the vidphone.

"Heero," Quatre said, and rested his chin on my shoulder. I winced. Quatre has a bony chin, but he poked me, and I figured I could handle it for a few minutes. Heero looked worried, and Quatre gave him a reassuring smile. "When you head into a mission, do you always start with the first thing and move in a logical progression to the last?"

Heero tensed, and I closed my eyes, suppressing a groan. Of course Heero didn't do that, unless I was walking around behind him with a checklist and a gun to his head. Thing was, Heero still wasn't going to admit his missions weren't textbook, unless I got off my ass and  _did_  point the gun at his head. Then, and only then, he might allow that perhaps sometimes, every once in a blue moon—

"Only if Barton's forcing me, or Une's observing," Heero said flatly.

I gaped. That's the only word. Then I turned sideways to see Quatre giving me a smug look, and I rolled over on my back, covering my eyes. How come I could rail at Heero for twenty minutes and get his best impression of a stone wall, but Quatre could ask one loaded question, so sweetly, and Heero would spill his guts?

"Seducing someone is not a logical progression," Quatre explained. "Follow your instincts. If Duo arrives and that seems like a good time to kiss him, do it then. Or over dinner. Or when he reaches for a tool."

"But what if he—"

"There are what-ifs in missions," Quatre retorted, a hint of steel coming into his voice. "You could take out the perps ten minutes in, two hours in, or a week after infiltration, and at any juncture they might shoot you, blow the place up, or surrender. Do you know which it'll be, going in?"

Heero was silent, then frowned, shaking his head.

"You don't in this case, either, Yuy," Quatre replied, and leaned over me, stretching to reach the vidphone control panel. "Get some sleep, and we'll see you in the morning."


	3. Chapter 3

Thursday I was again forced by luck or Une's sadism to sit at the front of an auditorium and stare down Preventer applicants my age or a few years older. They were lined up neatly with their archaic sheets of paper—which the board of directors had determined made it harder to cheat—and their number two pencils. Granted, even Heero might have trouble hacking a sheet of paper, but I'm sure with enough time and some help from Duo, he'd figure out a way.

"Agent Barton," someone whispered. I looked up from my paperwork—purporting to be a massive tome on the firearms policies for sub-agency teams, which was in fact hiding the latest paperback mystery novel inside the cover—and saw one of the older Preventers waiting by the desk. "Agent Barton," she said, and cleared her throat. "Agent Chang sent me down to spell you. He said you should head to the pilot testing room immediately."

A minute later I was striding down the hallway, documentation and illicit novel tucked under my arm. I stepped through the doorway of the pilot training lab to find the applicants up in arms. Well, not entirely. They were pilots, not officers, so their arms were up but didn't include firearms. Considering it was Heero at the head of the classroom, this was probably a good thing, or our year's crop of new pilots would've been toast.

"The test is impossible," one young man railed. Heero was at the head of the room, his arms folded, leaning against the desk, his expression calm but his eyes dark and thunderous. The young man—probably a few years older than me—didn't seem to notice the warning signs, but kept right on arguing. "There's no way anyone can pass this!"

A number of other students echoed their agreement, and I stepped inside the door to lean against the wall. I could only suppose Wufei had determined that for some reason my attendance might prevent bloodshed. I doubted it was to keep the students in line; more likely, it was to keep Heero in line.

"Forty-seven students," Heero said, and his voice carried easily over the ruckus. "Fourteen passed, and even that with only seventy-percent. No one scored above seventy-five. Unacceptable."

Who the hell put Heero in charge of this class, anyway? Oh, right, the professional sadist, Une.

"It can be done," Heero continued. He picked up the phone from the desk, and hit a few buttons. "Send him down, Chang." Heero slammed down the phone and glared at the students. "And I'll prove it."

The next few minutes were tense, while the students sorted themselves out at their various VR pilot-screens. Their helmets were on, their hands on the faux gear shifts, ready to follow the progress of whomever would prove the course was not only manageable but possible at all. I narrowed my eyes at the master screen behind the desk. Something about it looked familiar, but when Duo arrived, I had to bite down to keep from laughing. I knew exactly what scenario it was, then.

"What's got your panties in a wad?" Duo glared at Heero. "I was in the middle of—hey!" His gaze fell on the master VR box, at the front of the classroom. "Is that the latest vid setup?"

"Your attention span's down to two seconds, Maxwell," Heero said, in a flat tone that indicated he was needling Duo. And Duo, of course, bristled, and then promptly ignored him, sliding into the master seat and putting on the goggles. Heero gave him the test parameters in a bored voice. "You have to get from the starting point to the asteroid docking bay, with minimum damage and all life forms on the shuttle intact."

"Yuy," Duo started to whine. "This is a cargo ship setup! You want me to—"

Heero put his hand on Duo's shoulder, leaned past him, and hit a few buttons. Duo squawked, and some of the students gasped, watching in their VR helmets. I raised my eyebrows; Heero had just downgraded the shuttle to one with half the power and maneuverability of the previous selection.

"You talk too much, Maxwell," Heero said, but I noticed he squeezed Duo's shoulder.

"Uh... Yuy?" Duo twisted in his seat, his helmet still on, and I could hear bewilderment in his voice. I had a suspicion he was a bit surprised by Heero's affection, but the moment wasn't the most romantic. First, Duo was blind to the classroom as long as that helmet was on, and second, Heero was already punching the start button for the test. Duo yelped, and straightened up in the seat. "Yuy, you bastard, what the—"

Shots were already coming at the shuttle from the asteroid in the program, and Duo protested inarticulately a few more times before falling silent in concentration as he jerked the shuttle wildly to miss the oncoming shots. Heero leaned against the desk, crossed his arms, and lowered his head. Just as he did, I swear I saw him wink at me.

"Shut up and pilot, Maxwell." Heero lowered his head to his chest, but his voice carried easily over the annoyed grunts while Duo maneuvered the bulky shuttle past the enemy fire. Heero closed his eyes. "Wake me when you're done."

I shook my head, and settled into an empty seat at the back. Flipping the documentation open on my lap, I paged through the paperback until I found my place. Shutting out the sounds of explosions on the master screen, I sank back down into the mystery of how Miss Priscilla had been found dead in the garden, stabbed through the neck.

Ten minutes later I raised my head to find Heero glaring down at me.

"That is not the manual on firearms policies and procedures," he informed me. "We're supposed to be meeting tomorrow to discuss the revised guidelines—"

Before I could open my mouth, Duo appeared, and plucked the book from my hands. "Thanks for holding it for me. Great book, isn't it?" He tapped the book against his forehead and gave me a conspiratorial grin. "By the way, Mister Findley-Brogan did it. With a pair of scissors." Holding the book over his head, he sailed from the classroom, chuckling wickedly.

"Fucker," I muttered. I'd been certain the culprit was Lord Schelling.

"Barton," Heero snapped.

I realized most of the students were filing out, as well, leaving us alone in the training room. I did my best to look innocent, and Heero's eyes narrowed. Looked like I was going to have to tell Quatre the tally just went to seventeen-five. I consoled myself with the knowledge the score was still in my favor.

 

 

 

Friday morning Quatre had an early meeting, and didn't join us for coffee. Heero and I stood in line, patiently if somewhat catatonically waiting for our turn to speak to the powers that be, also known as the cute girl who controlled the espresso machine.

"I need to speed the process," Heero grunted.

"Start by shooting those managers," I muttered, jerking my head towards the bigwigs taking their damn time placing their order.

"No, with Duo," Heero replied.

"Right." That was my next guess. I attempted to look half-awake. "What about him? You didn't call last night. I thought that meant it went well."

"We were almost finished with the truck, but he had to run errands," Heero said. He gave his order to the girl behind the counter and stepped back, his arms crossed. "And before you ask, no. I didn't."

"Oh." I groped blindly for the coffee cup placed in my hand, nodded to the girl, paid out my cash, and stumbled towards the café's door. Heero was right behind me, that smirk fixed firmly on his face. "Shut it, Yuy, I need this stuff."

"Roger," he said, and the smirk faded to one of concern. "I need to escalate. I made a list of things that everyone else has done... " He dug in his pocket, and handed me a sheet of notepaper.

"Dinner, theater, flowers, wine," I read the list and handed it back. "Seems straightforward."

Heero scowled. "You're missing the point. That's what everyone  _else_  did."

I blinked, and nodded. "Then come up with something that's not what everyone else did."

"I'm trying." Heero glared at the receptionist, she quivered in fear, he looked satisfied, and I sighed.

Yeah, just another day at the office.

 

 

 

At lunch, Heero insisted on eating in the office, and I propped my feet up on my desk while I picked around the cherry tomatoes in my salad. He was frowning at the screen, and clicking at random moments.

"What are you doing over there?" I gazed at him over my last bite of salad.

Heero was quiet for a moment, before clicking once more. The printer whirred, and he grabbed the sheet, handing it to me. I read it, and gave him a startled look.

"A drive-in?"

"Yeah." Heero looked pleased with himself. "Apparently the last six...  _attempts_  took Duo to the theater." He gave me a long-suffering stare when I shrugged, not sure what the difference was. "The real theater," he repeated. "With real people. And a real curtain."

I handed him back the sheet, and nodded. The minute I had a chance, I ducked out of the office and went in search of Wufei and Quatre. It appeared the stress of wooing Duo was destroying Heero's last few brain cells.

 

 

 

On the way home, traffic was heavy, and I slouched behind the wheel, trying to ignore Quatre's soft mutterings about how close we were to the other cars. We inched along the divided highway. Heero was in the backseat, reading up on mission parameters for a situation on L3, while I was doing my best not to reach out and throttle the love of my life.

"Trowa," Quatre whispered. "That BMW—"

I gritted my teeth. "Quatre," I said. "If I can handle nine different mobile—"

"Trowa," Heero said, much louder, startling me. "Stop the car!"

"Damn it," I snapped. "My driving is not that bad!"

"Yes it is, but stop anyway!"

Heero banged on the back of my headrest, and I pulled over in the left-lane shoulder. He was out of the car instantly and wading through knee-high grasses and flowers on the center strip of the highway.

"Uh... Trowa," Quatre said. "Heero is picking flowers."

"I see that," I replied. I couldn't take my eyes off the vision of Heero, in full Preventers uniform, puzzling over the batch of yellow sunflowers versus red poppies. "Last time I checked, you're not allergic to goldenrod, too, are you? I think my hay fever medicine is at home, but I'm not sure how much we have left."

"I'm not, and it's not goldenrod season anyway," Quatre answered, very slowly. "But I think Heero might need some good drugs."

"Or less of whatever he's already taking," I muttered, watching as Heero gathered an armful of small purple blossoms and added them to his collection.

He got back into the car, arms full, and settled into the backseat. Quatre was in the front seat, looking somewhere between ultimately pleased and pole-axed, while I could only sneak glances in the rear view mirror at Heero's satisfied expression. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. It took us another thirty minutes in heavy traffic before we pulled up at Heero's apartment, and I turned around to see him frowning at the flowers. They'd wilted in the mid-spring heat, and were lying limp across his lap.

"They should've gone in water right away," Quatre said. "But you could always just buy—"

"No," Heero said, and gathered up his briefcase. He grasped the bundle, now significantly smaller and droopier, and seemed to come to a decision. "Could you drop Quatre off and come back for me?"

"Come back... " I groaned. I'd just been driving for an hour, and now he wanted another hour on top of that? Quatre shot me a glare, cut his eyes at Heero, and I could sense I'd either get the silent treatment if I said no, or something special if I said yes. Visions of naked Quatres swum in my head, and I set my jaw, nodding. "Sure. I'll see you in an hour?"

"Bring a shovel."

I blinked a few times, and scowled at Heero. "I am not helping you bury the bodies of Duo's ex-lovers."

Heero rolled his eyes at me. "If I were to kill any of them, there wouldn't be enough left to bury. Don't forget, Barton. See ya, Winner."

"Uh... sure, Heero," Quatre said, craning his neck to watch Heero trot quickly into his apartment building. Quatre turned to me, his blue-green eyes as wide as I'd ever seen them. "A shovel?"

"I don't want to know," I told him. "I just don't want to know."

 

 

 

So it was that I spent my Friday evening standing guard on the side of the highway while Heero dug up two poppy plants, a daisy plant, and three scraggly purple flowering weeds. Each one was carefully put into a plastic bag and situated on the back seat of the car. Fortunately no cops pulled over to investigate the dangerous looking man with a shovel, accompanied by the not-quite-as-dangerous looking man pacing along the shoulder looking baffled.

We pulled away from the shoulder, and I did my best to appear casual as I merged back into traffic. The last thing I needed was to face down Une on Monday morning, trying to come up with an explanation for why I'd assisted Agent Yuy in perpetrating horticultural vandalism.

I dropped Heero off at his apartment, then checked my cell phone only to find Quatre had had to run back to the office for a late pre-mission meeting with Wufei and Une. He must have called while I was outside the car. Disgruntled, I threw the phone on the passenger's seat and headed to the bar near headquarters, where I knew there'd be a bunch of Preventers hanging out after work. I could wait there for Quatre.

When I walked through the door, I was surprised to see Duo holding court with seven or eight friends near the back. I'd assumed he would be with Heero, but realized Heero hadn't said anything about Duo coming over. And I hadn't asked. The smell of dirt was still permeating my nostrils, and frankly I wasn't sure I wanted to know what Heero was planning.

Duo waved me over, and ordered a beer for me, introducing me to the rest of the group. I nodded politely to each, and settled into the vacated chair next to Duo. A half-hour passed of them conversing around me as I nursed my beer, then another half-hour. No word from Quatre, and I did my best to appear interested, if quiet.

It was almost eight when most of them had wandered off, leaving only Duo and me. He ordered another beer for each of us.

"What has Yuy been smoking?" He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed.

I choked, feeling the beer burn down my windpipe. "Excuse me?"

"He's acting strange," Duo said, leaning back, still suspicious. "You're his partner. I figured you'd know."

"You mean... you don't?" I schooled my expression into something bland, and sipped at my beer. "You've been over there working on that truck for the past four or five nights."

"Exactly," Duo said, with a firm nod. "What the fuck got into his rice? Selling that R19? Was he high? Did he get a head injury on the last mission?"

I pondered saying: actually, more like a heart injury, but let it pass, and went for a different tactic. "He seemed to be enjoying working on it. Didn't you?"

"Hell, yeah, it's an old engine, a challenge, but we had a good time," Duo allowed. He leaned forward to rest his chin on his fist, and watched the crowd milling around the bar. "I always enjoy hanging out with Heero."

I nodded, and let a minute or two pass before moving to step two of my impulsive plan. "Wufei tells me you dumped Mike."

"Yeah, last week." Duo shrugged and took another swallow off his beer. "Guy was just... well, pedestrian."

"No car?"

Duo snorted. "No... just no creativity. Ran the same routine as everyone else." He swirled his beer, then finished it off and waved for another one. "So... Quatre and Wufei not done yet?"

I checked my cell phone again. "Maybe another hour. You waiting for a ride?"

"Yeah. Wufei said he'd find me here." Duo shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Sucks, a Friday night, and here we are." His expression turned sly. "At least you can go home and get laid."

"And you could head over to Heero's and finish the truck. Didn't you say once that a purring engine is better than a blowjob?"

"Yeah, but what'd be better is if I could get both," Duo said, and leered. The look faded, and he shrugged, lazily waving at the cocktail waitress for another beer. "Not like I'd complain, but." He shrugged again.

I blame my next comment on a long-term friendship with Wufei and Quatre. I, on my own, would never have uttered those words. "So if Heero asked you out... "

"Would  _you_  turn him down?" Duo halted, flushed, and gave me an abashed grin. "Well, if no Quatre. I mean, come on, the guy's sex on two legs! If Heero asked me out? Fuck yeah."

Okay. I screwed that bland expression on tight, and sipped my beer. Heero had used the coy but usually effective—well, it worked for me, when getting up the nerve to ask Quatre out—classic trick of the casual 'it's a date.' And apparently it had gone right past Duo's head, or possibly in one ear and out the other without slamming up against any obstacles. They'd make a great couple, I told myself, and snorted quietly. Heero's got a head full of rocks when it comes to wooing and winning, while Duo's blissfully void.

I realized Duo was still talking, and dragged my shocked senses back to attention.

"But we're friends, and that's cool." Duo grinned. "I'm not gonna wreck that, y'know, but if Heero ever gave a sign otherwise. I'd be there, like  _that!_ "

He snapped his fingers right as my cell phone rang. I grabbed for it, saved from having to crawl under the table to prevent myself from either laughing hysterically or beating my head against the nearest hard object.

"Barton." I'm pretty sure I shouted into the phone.

Quatre laughed when he heard the sounds of the bar. "You're down on the corner waiting?"

"Yeah," I said, tilting the phone a bit away from Duo to cover my mouth. "And... get here soon. I think we've got a problem."

Duo raised his eyebrows at me, and I smiled tightly. I'd hoped he wouldn't catch my muttered comment, but for any air pockets in his brain when it came to Heero, he had extra acuity for everything else.

"A problem," Quatre said. "Heero-related?"

"Yeah."

"Okay... Wufei's here. We're ready. Could you elaborate?"

I leaned back, trying to look casual. It was becoming the theme of the evening. "Not really. Duo and I are hanging out. Whenever you get here—"

"What's the problem?" Duo leaned forward and poked me in the elbow.

I said the first thing that came into my head. "The chicken's gone bad." Yes, look at me, the professional infiltrator and that's the best code I can come up with. Or cover. Take your pick.

"Chicken," Duo repeated.

"Chicken," Quatre said.

"Right."

"Oh! Your dinner!" Duo brightened. "Well, get Wufei and Quatre down here, we'll grab something at the Afghan place down the street. Hell, I'll call Heero. We can head up to his neighborhood. There's a great Chinese place around the corner from him."

"Quatre," I managed to stutter. "I think the chicken's okay after all."

"Trowa," Quatre said, as slowly as I'd been speaking to Heero the day before. "Have you been sharing drugs with Heero?"

 

 

 

Saturday afternoon when the phone rang, I was lazing about, recovering from the hangover, and contemplating doing laundry. Quatre took one look at the caller ID and waved his arms wildly. I scowled and rolled over on my stomach to slap at the vidphone, tilting it so Quatre wasn't visible in the camera from where he sat on the overstuffed chair by the end table.

"Barton," I said.

Heero's face resolved on the screen, and he looked worried. "I need help," he said, in a soft voice.

"I'm not driving you anywhere," I told him.

"Truck's done," Heero replied, shaking his head. "Just... which do you think?"

The next thing I knew, a shirt was being held up in front of the vidphone camera. It was dark gray—probably originally black—and had faded lettering from some local basketball team. Then it disappeared, to be replaced by an equally tattered green t-shirt with some slogan for a local barbecue place.

"Yuy," I said, trying to remain calm despite Quatre's wide eyes. "Those shirts look like something you'd use to polish your car."

"Actually, I think I did, with one of them," Heero said, lowering the second shirt and staring at it dubiously. "Do you think Duo would prefer potato salad or cole slaw?"

Both, Quatre mouthed, and I sighed. "Both," I told Heero. "You know how he eats."

Heero nodded. "So, black, or green?"

"You're really going to wear one of them?"

Heero glared at me.

"Uh... flip a coin." I looked over to see Quatre digging in his pocket, and producing a quarter. "Scratch that, we'll flip. Heads or tails?"

"Tails for the green," Heero said, and waited, expectantly.

Quatre flipped, studied the coin, and nodded.

"Green," I told Heero.

He looked relieved, and signed off without another word. I stared at the dark screen for several seconds, and rolled over on my back.

"Suddenly," I announced, "I have this compulsion to crawl under something and not come out. Ever."

"I caught some of that," Quatre said, stretching from his chair to poke me in the shoulder with his foot. "Was Heero really asking you which shirt to wear? You're the least fashion conscious of any of us."

"Hey," I grumbled. "They were old, ratty shirts. Falling apart. Holes and all."

"Oh," Quatre said knowingly. "That makes sense. You did wear that turtleneck until it disintegrated. I'd guess he figured you'd be the expert on decrepit clothing."

"Hmph." I closed my eyes, and contemplated taking a nap. "Wake me when either Heero's gotten Duo into bed, or he's given up, self-destructed and the dust has settled."

"Hush," Quatre admonished me. "I'm calling Wufei."

"Of course," I said, and covered my head with the sofa pillow.

 

 

 

Eight o'clock, Saturday night, and I wasn't hot and sweaty while having mad passionate sex. That was disappointment number one. In fact, I wasn't even lazing about with a stuffed stomach after a blissful evening of insanely spicy Indian food, which would be disappointment number two.

No, I was stretched out in front of the television, watching some damn soccer game, with the volume on full blast. I hate watching television on full blast, but it was the only way to drown out a certain blond gossip columnist's voice. The team in the green shirts had just scored a goal, two fights had broken out, and the coach in the yellow was screaming in some language the newscasters wouldn't broadcast when my view was blocked by Quatre. He shut the television off, and held out my shoes.

"What?" I gave him a blank stare. "What's going on?"

"Relena and Wufei will be here in ten minutes," he said, and sailed from the living room.

"I didn't know we were going out again tonight," I hollered, lacing up my boots and standing. "Did you make plans again and not tell me?"

Quatre appeared in the bedroom doorway, pulling on a black shirt. I gaped, and he yanked it over his head with a worried look. "No, this is very last-minute. Wufei went by Heero's place and his truck was gone."

"Uh, Heero is capable of going out on his own," I pointed out. "He's a big boy. Has his own place, pays his own bills—"

"Trowa," Quatre said, in that tone of voice that meant my dry humor was not appreciated. I sighed, and waited to hear the news. Quatre slipped into his boots, not bothering to lace them, and led the way to the door.

"Wait," I said, realizing something. "Wufei lives almost forty minutes from Heero. What was he doing in Heero's neighborhood?"

"He and Relena figured they'd head there, after finding out Duo's out," Quatre said, as if this explained everything.

"Of course," I muttered. "Because our friends need babysitters."

"We don't want bad chicken," Quatre replied, and kissed me quickly. His fast kisses, rapid and deep, always left me a bit weak-kneed, and he looked victoriously smug as he pushed me out the door. "So now we need to make sure they're okay. If one or both hasn't wised up and made a move, we're going to have to take matters into our own hands."

"Do I have to be involved?" I tried bracing myself, but Quatre had twenty pounds of muscle compared to my lean frame, and he easily shoved me down the hallway. "I mean, they're adults now—"

"Winner! Barton!" Wufei barked from the lobby of the apartment as we came around the corner. "We've narrowed it down to five locations, based on Yuy's and Maxwell's favorite pastimes."

Relena was next to him, in her going-incognito-costume of dark glasses and baseball cap, but with the curious addition of a set of opera glasses hanging from a cord around her neck. She waved a sheet of paper, and bounced in place. Wufei scowled, and she settled down with a dignified air.

"We've compared the list to a map, and determined the most efficient means of checking all locations within a reasonable time period," she informed us. She lowered the paper, and pulled her glasses down her nose to fix me with a stern blue-eyed stare. "Unless, of course,  _someone_  has additional information to which we've not been privy."

I realized everyone was looking at me. I attempted to look cool, and shrugged.

Wufei crossed his arms.

I didn't back down.

Quatre narrowed his eyes.

"Drive-in," I croaked.

"Ah," Relena said, and pulled out a pocket computer. She punched in a series of buttons, and crowed with delight. "Yes! There's one about an hour from here. And... hey, check that out, it's showing that horror movie you've been wanting to see, Wufei."

"The one with the lobsters that take over L2?" Wufei leaned over Relena's shoulder to see the screen's readout. "That started a half-hour ago."

"We can see the midnight showing," Relena assured him. She tucked the computer away, pushed up her glasses, and waved to Quatre. "You can drive."

Oh, great, I thought, trailing along behind them. Now I'm going to have to listen to those two sucking face in the back seat while I'm trapped pondering the multiple ways Heero is going to kill me if he ever finds out I assisted the terrible threesome in tracking his wooing ass down.

 

 

 

We got to the drive-in, paid our fare—ignoring Relena's and Quatre's spirited discussion about whether we could save money by shoving me into the trunk when going through the toll—and parked near the back. Everyone piled out, and I was dragged along despite my insistence that someone should watch the car.

"Look, if Heero's brought Duo here," I started to say, but Quatre cut me off.

"They're both clueless," he replied evenly, while helping Relena shove her blonde hair down the back of her dark blue shirt. "Duo doesn't realize what Heero's doing, and Heero doesn't know enough to know how to ask."

"And we should be aware of all details," Wufei added sagely, "so we can be prepared to pick up the pieces should Heero's mission go badly."

"It's not a mission," I protested.

"Shush," Relena hissed, and proceeded to climb up on top of Quatre's car. She raised the opera glasses, and scoped out the parking lot.

"Oh, that's real stealthy," I muttered, and got smacked on the shoulder by Quatre.

"Three trucks, at two o'clock," Relena announced. "Third row and fifth row. And two trucks, at nine o'clock, first row and second row."

"We'll take the first set," Quatre said. "Set your cell phones on vibrate."

"Roger," Relena replied, as Wufei helped her down from the car. Wufei nodded, displaying his phone was set on silent as well. I dutifully switched my phone over, and followed Quatre between the rows of cars.

"This isn't necessary," I whispered, startled when he spun me around, pushed me up against a speaker post, and ground his hips against me. "Oh," I gasped, angling for a deep kiss. When he let me go, he grinned, and trotted off into the darkness. "Oh, well, okay," I said to no one in particular, and did my best to keep up in hopes of a repeat performance.

We'd surreptitiously checked out the first two trucks and were sneaking our way towards the third when Quatre grabbed at his hip.

"Wufei," he told me, and answered the phone. "Yeah? Oh... really? Oh, shit... " Quatre's mouth fell open, and he gave me a startled look. "You're fucking kidding me. No way... "

"What?" I reached for the phone, somewhere between annoyed and worried. If Duo had belted Heero, or they'd argued, or Heero had chickened out—any of a hundred bad scenarios ran through my sex-fuddled brain. Quatre had been leading me through most of the packed lot with random encouragements and I was lucky I could walk straight, let alone articulate a question about something that didn't involve being horizontal with Quatre's head in my lap.

"We'll be right there!" Quatre swatted my hand away and hung up the phone. "Found them," he told me, and groped my crotch for good measure. "Come on!"

I'm sure I had my tongue out of my mouth by that point, but I managed to keep up. Five minutes later we were under the overhang of one of the snack booths, and Relena was handing Quatre the opera glasses.

"Blue truck, with the rust proofing patch on the quarter-panel," she instructed. Quatre focused the glasses, and gasped. Relena grinned. "See!"

"What?" I scowled, then was handed the glasses. Raising them, I studied the darkened parking lot, lit up by the red glow of lobsters rampaging through a miniature version of the downtown L2 shopping district. There, in the front row, was Heero's truck, with the license plate from his sports car—YUY 01. I lowered the glasses, confused. "I don't see anyone in the truck."

Quatre elbowed me. "Look again."

Frowning, I raised the glasses and took a more careful look. The windows appeared to be fogged up. I nearly dropped the glasses when someone's hand slapped up against the glass, followed by a second hand, and then what appeared to be the back of someone's head.

"Oh, well, uh... " I lowered the opera glasses, only to have Wufei snatch them from me. I blinked a few times, and Quatre sidled up close to nibble on my neck. It only somewhat alleviated the shocked feeling of seeing my partner and one of my best friends making out in a beat-up old truck at a drive-in. I felt like a peeping tom. "Uh... "

"Ah," Wufei said, in a pleased, quiet tone. "Mission accomplished, team."

"Excellent," Relena whispered, then looked at us. "So. Did you want to stay for the midnight showing?"

 

 

 

We got home at two a.m., and I staggered through the door, kicking my boots off by the door.

"If I'd had any clue," I grumbled, "I would've taken a nap instead of cleaning the kitchen."

"You're getting old," Quatre murmured, coming up behind me and slipping a hand in my jeans.

"And you're getting predictable," I replied, but made sure to lean back so he'd have better access.

The phone rang.

"Fuck," I said, "let the machine get it."

"What if it's an emergency?" Quatre removed his hand, and pushed me towards the kitchen. "We should answer it."

"And that always means me?" I rolled my eyes, but headed into the kitchen, where I answered the vidphone without turning on the lights. "Barton," I said, "and this had better be an issue of life or death."

"Close," Heero whispered.

I blinked. "What? What's wrong?"

"I... " Heero leaned in to the camera, and held up two little packets. "Duo's in the shower, but I... which should I use?"

"Which what?" I squinted at the vidphone screen. "What are you talking about? Did you make any—"

"Yes, yes, progress," Heero muttered, looking nervously over his shoulder. "But I got one of each, and now I'm not—"

"This is not the time for the birds and bees," I told him sternly. "If you—"

"What do animals have to do with this?" Heero glared at me. "Ribbed, studded, or plain?"

I blinked, backed up, stared at the little squares in his hand, and sighed. "Try all of them and compare," I snapped, and shut off the phone right as Heero gave me a pleased smile.

Quatre leaned into the kitchen. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," I told him. "You are dangerous enough already. The last thing you need is more ammunition."

"Someone's gotta have it," he responded philosophically, and dashed from the kitchen. His voice floated down the hall, teasing me as he stripped off his clothes on the way to the bedroom. "That way there's backup when you run out."

 

 

 

Monday morning I was braced for impact. Heero's truck was running, so he'd sent an email saying he'd see me at the coffee shop. To my surprise, Duo was with him... and they were holding hands. Heero had the oddest expression, like he was unbelievably proud of himself, while Duo just looked rather shell-shocked.

"Hey," I said, sliding into a seat opposite them, clutching my starter dose of espresso. "So." I eyed the hands clasped together—on top of the table, not under—and didn't miss the fact that Heero was eyeing nearly every man in the place with an annoyed but smug expression.

"Hey," Duo said, and smiled nervously. He glanced at Heero, melted a little, and gave me a beatific smile. "So."

Heero turned, frowning at both of us.

"I need another ten minutes," I told Heero, pointing to my coffee. He snorted, and glanced at Duo, who shrugged.

"Don't bother," Duo said. "No coffee's going to cure me."

I grinned into my drink, and after a few minutes, we seemed to mutually decide it was time to head into headquarters and begin the day. Duo and Heero didn't let go of each other's hand until the elevator door opened on Duo's floor, and even then there seemed to be a bit of a tug of war until they finally released each other.

Heero had a tiny little smile on his lips, watching Duo walk backwards down the hallway, and the smile remained even after the elevator doors closed.

"I see things went well," I finally observed, as the doors opened on our floor and we walked the long hallway past the floor's receptionist to our office in the corner.

"Quite," Heero announced. "He liked the flowers, he thought the shirt was cool, and he pretty much inhaled the picnic."

"But didn't see much of the movie?"

Heero fixed me with a stare.

I froze. I remembered the snake charmer move the receptionist made, and did my best imitation of her flinch. Heero narrowed his eyes, and I repeated the motion. He tensed, and I backed up a step. He brought up a hand like he was reaching for his gun, and I sank down, going for the 'submissive non-target' appearance. I could feel the score ticking away in my head: seventeen-six, seventeen-seven...

He stopped at seventeen to thirteen, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Boy, Barton," Heero said, and grinned widely. "You're cute when you're worried I'll waste you. Not as cute as Duo," he added, contemplatively, "but still cute."

"Ah." I blinked, and collapsed into my chair. "Thanks. I think."

"Sure thing." Heero hummed for a few minutes, starting up his computer, then he looked over at me, but said nothing. His wild grin was gone, replaced by a sincere, sweet smile I'd rarely seen on him, even over our years of friendship.

I knew what he meant, and I didn't say anything either, but smiled in return. And decided then and there that I'd never again tell Yuy he was pathetic at anything. Because obviously he wasn't; when it came to love, he just did all the wrong things, down to monster trucks and roadside weeds.

Fortunately for Heero, all his wrong things... were all the right things for Duo.


End file.
